


Bane of the Doctor - Part 13: The Descent

by RodimusDoctor



Series: Bane of the Doctor [14]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Gen, Multiple Doctors (Doctor Who), Psychological Trauma, Science Fiction, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-13
Updated: 2014-08-13
Packaged: 2018-02-12 23:16:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2128125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RodimusDoctor/pseuds/RodimusDoctor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While the Scarecrow waits impatiently, the Doctor (11th) attempts to stabilize his previous incarnation's mind by blocking the worst memories of his torture. Dirge Manson arrives and deals with the Scarecrow, then tries to bate the Doctor into committing an act he will regret.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bane of the Doctor - Part 13: The Descent

“We’re wasting time!” the Scarecrow growled, holding the 10th Doctor up by his arms.

“Restoring one’s dignity is never a waste of time,” the 11th Doctor replied as he pulled up the 10th Doctor’s trousers. “Put him down and hand me that shirt.”

The Scarecrow dropped the 10th Doctor to the floor, snatched up the shirt in question and threw it at the 11th Doctor’s face. The Doctor snatched it out of the air without looking up, then continued fastening his predecessor’s belt.

“This would go a lot faster if you pitched in,” he said.

They’d found what the Doctor deduced to be Dirge Manson’s medical centre, the place where he’d brought the 10th Doctor to heal. There was only one cot, beside which were a number of advanced medical devices. The technology was identical to that of the med ship the Doctor had encountered with Amy, Rory, Captain Avery and his son Toby, and would have healed his younger self most efficiently. 

The medical equipment only took up one corner of the entire room. Lockers lined the walls, and there were dark patches on the floor where other banks of lockers had recently been. Presumably, the Doctor thought, this was where Church soldiers came to put on their sensory deprivation suits. After all, one of the two doors on either side of the room led to the Meditation Chamber.

The other door led to a hanger containing one ogron shuttle, and one of the Silence’s time capsules. The Scarecrow had demanded they use one of those spaceships immediately to escape. The Doctor had insisted they care for his younger incarnation first and, as he was the only one who could pilot either of the ships, he was the one who made the rules.  
But the Scarecrow didn’t have to like it.

“Fine,” the Scarecrow knelt down and helped the Doctor put the 10th Doctor’s shirt on. “But after this you uphold your end of our deal. And we’re not doing his shoes and socks. Or tie. Dirge Manson could find us any minute.”

“Any second, actually,” the Doctor told him. “Button his shirt, would you? There’s something I need to do.”

And then, while he still had the nerve, the Doctor took hold of his younger self’s face and entered his mind.

 

It was like falling into Hell. The Doctor tried to stay objective, tried to look at the memories as being those of someone else. In a way they were; he couldn’t remember most of his time in this place, including the details of what had finally shattered him. Those memories were blocked... because he was about to block them.

“You knew this was what you would find.”

The Doctor turned to see his 6th incarnation standing behind him.

“I wasn’t expecting you,” the Doctor replied. “Which are you? Mental avatar or fear-induced chimera? No, don’t tell me, let me guess. Actually, don’t let me guess, we haven’t got time. Just tell me. What are you?”

“I,” the 6th Doctor held his hands behind his back and paced toward his older selves, “am all that remains of our strength, our courage, our sense of self. If you want to heal him,” he nodded at the 10th Doctor, “you’re going to have to reconcile the two of us.”

“Oh, is that all?” the Doctor said, running a hand through his mental hair. “I thought it would require something tricky.”

“You know, we’re not nearly as funny as we think we are,” the 6th Doctor said.

“Don’t you listen to the skeptic!” the Doctor knelt beside the 10th Doctor’s mental form. “We are funny, clever, brilliant, and fantastic dressers. And do you remember what we used to say a few centuries ago? Fear itself is largely an illusion! And at our ages, there’s little left to fear. You remember saying that, don’t you?”

The 10th Doctor looked up at him and managed a weak nod.

“Right, then,” the Doctor said. “Let’s have a look at what Dirge Manson left in your head. I think I know, but I want to confirm it. Come, Doctor,” he stood, and offered his younger self his hand. “Let’s face this thing together.”

“Then you’ll be facing me,” the 6th Doctor said. But it was not the 6th Doctor’s voice. The Doctor turned to face his previous self’s greatest fear. Not death. Not loss. Not the end of his incarnation.

The incarnation he was to become.

The Valeyard.

“The bad man,” the 10th Doctor whimpered.

 

“Doctor,” the Scarecrow said, “I am at the end of my patience!”

If either Doctor heard him, they gave no indication. The mind-meld continued, leaving both Doctors unresponsive and still.

The Scarecrow reared back a leg and prepared to sever the link between the Doctors with his boot. Before he could, however, the elevator doors hissed open and revealed Dirge Manson. He was armed, and he was not alone; three ogrons accompanied him.

“So this is where you and the Doctors ran off to,” Dirge said. “You very nearly escaped, did you know that?”

“As it happens, I did,” the Scarecrow replied with undisguised bitterness.

Dirge Manson stepped out of the elevator, his pistol trained on the Scarecrow. The three ogrons followed, then moved to surround him.

“If he so much as raises a finger,” Dirge ordered, “kill him.”

“What of my place in history?” the Scarecrow asked.

“Time can be rewritten,” Dirge told him. “And you have reached the end of your usefulness.”

Dirge turned his attention to the two Doctors.

“And what are you up to?” he said, and he began to approach them. “Trying to undo my hard work? You can’t, Doctor. But that doesn’t mean I’m about to let you try.”

 

“We don’t have much time,” the 11th Doctor told himself. “I can block your memories of this entire incident, but you will still feel the gaping wound in your psyche. How you cope with that is up to you.”

“He can’t cope,” said the Valeyard avatar behind him. “The knowledge that he will become me...”

“But he won’t,” the Doctor turned to face him. “He becomes me.” He knelt and faced his past again. “You become me. And look at me. I’m all right. I’m not the bad man. The bad man does not exist!”

“But that isn’t true, is it Doctor?” the Valeyard said. “We have access to your mind, just as you have to ours. We know what you deduced during your exposure to the Scarecrow’s fear toxin. That knowledge...”

“Isn’t knowledge!” the Doctor rounded on him once more. “It’s fear, plain and simple. There’s no truth in it.”

“And yet you were terrified by the possibility,” the Valeyard said. “Those mind-crystals that created the Dreamlord, you didn’t dispose of them all. One remained, and transferred the Dreamlord’s consciousness into Amy Pond. And when she became pregnant with twins, the Dreamlord took root in one of them, becoming...” the Valeyard threw off his robe and instantly changed into “Dirge Manson! You did create me, Doctor. And he,” he pointed at the 10th Doctor, “will create me when he becomes you. The amalgamation of your darkest nature, Doctor, and you unleash me on the universe!”

“No...” the 10th Doctor cried. “No! Nooo...”

“No,” the 11th Doctor said. “I’ll admit that possibility had me concerned, but hearing it laid out like that, well... it sounds a little far-fetched. Don’t you think?” he looked down at his younger self. “I mean, really. Think about it. Does it sound even remotely plausible?” He put a hand on his other self’s shoulder. “You won’t become him. You become me. And I,” he rose to his feet and confronted his adversary, “am the Doctor. You are an illusion, nothing more.”

 

Dirge Manson reared back his leg and prepared to boot the 11th Doctor away from his predecessor. The ogrons watched him in delighted anticipation.

And the Scarecrow realized that no one was looking at him. He raised his injured right arm up with his left hand and sprayed all three ogrons with his fear toxin. They screamed, clutched at their heads, fell to their knees, raised their arms protectively.

Manson turned, took in the situation and raised his pistol. The Scarecrow ducked behind an ogron, then shoved the thug forward. Manson grabbed the creature and flung him out of his way, but was not quick enough to avoid a face-full of gas. He staggered backward, eyes wide, pistol falling from his fingers.

“I cannot tell you how much I’ve been longing to do that!” the Scarecrow said. “You see, it is now you who is of no further use to me. I haven’t decided yet if I’m going to kill you or torture you with terror for the rest of your life. What to do, what to do!  
“I think I’ll make you keep your word regarding those untold riches. But first, I have to know... what is the big bad Dirge Manson afraid of?”

His legs shook and his eyes bulged, but Dirge managed to remain on his feet. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply, deliberately, disciplined.

Dirge opened his eyes. His hand shot out and grabbed the Scarecrow’s broken wrist. Yanked him forward. Belted him in the stomach. The Scarecrow fell to his knees, trying to scream but barely managing a whimper.

“You may be the master of fear, Crane,” he said, “but fear will never be my master.” He squeezed Crane’s wrist mercilessly, and the Scarecrow writhed in agony.

Dirge saw movement to his left. The 11th Doctor stood, holding Manson’s pistol in his hands.

“Well, Doctor!” Dirge released the Scarecrow and turned to face the Time Lord. “Is that my gun in your hand, or are you just...”

“That’s enough, Manson,” the Doctor said. “This ends now.”

 

The Doctor has rescued his 10th incarnation, no doubt before all of my brainwashing was completed. Now he holds the upper hand, and can make his escape at any time.

And yet... he stands there before me, with my gun in his hands.

I can make the Doctor destroy himself.

By killing me. 

“You are not going to shoot me,” I take a step toward him, “not in cold blood. Not with a weapon.” I take another step forward. “I’m going to take that gun from you,” another step. “I’m going to capture your companions.” Another step. “I’m going to torture them – all of them – and force you to watch.” One more step. “That weapon doesn’t have a stun or paralyze setting, Doctor. To save your companions, you will have to kill me.” I reach out a hand for the pistol, and prepare myself for the end.

“It doesn’t, no,” the Doctor says. “But his does.”

I look down. The 10th Doctor lies on the floor beside his older counterpart, holding an ogron disruptor. He fires, and I am flung backwards to the floor, unable to move.

“Bad man,” he says as he rises to a sitting position.

“Will you please stop saying that? It’s embarrassing,” the older Doctor says, laying his weapon down. “Keep an eye on this lot. I’m going to go and break some of Dirge’s toys. Back in a flash.” He picks his way through the fear-riddled ogrons and heads for the hangar. I have a very good idea what he’s going to do in there. He's going to shut down the time bubble I created to keep my business here hidden.

I failed to trigger him. And now I might just get a taste of Time Lord justice. Best-case scenario – he’ll disable the time capsule’s drive and we will re-enter normal spacetime, and then he’ll leave me to the mercy of Madame Kovarian and the Papal Mainframe. Worst case... doesn’t bear thinking about.

I am about to admit total defeat to myself when I see the 10th Doctor eyeing my pistol, the one his older counterpart left behind. I glance from him to the weapon and back again, and realize all is not lost.

I manage a small smile as the Doctor puts the ogron disruptor down and picks my pistol up. 

Fulfill the destiny I have given you, Doctor.

Kill the bad man.


End file.
